


with the spotlight shining

by sidewalkends



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:49:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewalkends/pseuds/sidewalkends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon Urie encounters someone new at the label party for Vices & Virtues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	with the spotlight shining

Brendon hates parties.

"Well, this is awkward," Emma says.

He would have to agree.

Brendon's not even sure how he ended up squashed between Emma Stone and a passed out Kesha (or Ke$ha or whatever) lookalike. It's cramped on their small bean-shaped maroon couch; Brendon's inhaling air that smells like a dozen different flowery perfumes and colognes mixed with the typical party stenches of smoke and sweat. He's slightly too warm in his black button-up shirt and blood red vest but he can't maneuver around to manage rolling the sleeves up. Brendon's too afraid jostling the snoring Kesha-wannabe will result in her waking up to upchuck whatever drugs, alcohol, and meager food she's consumed tonight. The very thought makes his stomach roll.

But back to Emma Stone, who just stated the obvious. This is an incredibly awkward situation, because in an effort to distance himself from the passed out blonde, Brendon's pressed himself up against Emma inadvertently. From their shoulders to their hips to their knees, their bodies are pressed together. Looking at Emma, admiring her heart-shaped face and her sweeping up-do, Brendon thinks it's definitely not a bad place to be.

"Yeah, sorry," he apologizes. "I just couldn't deal with the crowd anymore."

Emma nods her head in agreement. "I know what you mean," she replies, gazing at the throngs of people--laughing, dancing, shouting, drinking--and biting her lip. "It's a little much. Maybe because I don't know that many people here."

It's a label event, Decaydence is hosting, and it takes a moment for Brendon to remember it's for him and Spencer. It doesn't feel like any CD dropping partying he's been to before, mainly because of two specific people not in attendance.

"Are you a fan of Panic! At the Disco?" he asks curiously. It's pretty obvious Emma has no idea who he is, and Brendon's shameless enough to take advantage for a moment.

Shrugging, a move that looks graceful with her angular shoulders and pale skin, Emma admits, "I've heard their radio hits. Like that lying one, and the one about nine at noon, or whatever. It's not so much my style." She hesitates, then amends, "Well, the songs they've been playing off this new CD here, they've been really good."

That takes a second to sink in. Brendon blinks. "You...like it better than the old stuff?"

Emma grins at Brendon, and she looks bashful and unashamed all at once. "I do. It matches the singer's voice so much better. And it's edgy but something you can still relate to, or whatever. The older stuff sucked. It had potential, but it sucked serious ass."

Maybe Brendon stares at her for too long, he's honestly just floored, because Emma bites her lip again and laughs uneasily.

"I sound like a total music snob, huh?" She shakes her head. "I blame Andrew Garfield, he's a horrible influence. I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

Holding his hands up in a placating, reassuring manner, Brendon grins so wide it hurts. "Don't worry, you did not offend me. The opposite, actually." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Brendon Urie, by the way."

Emma's delicate hand clasps his and her brow is furrowed as she looks at Brendon. "That sounds really familiar," she muses. "I'm Emma Stone. I act. Occasionally, you know, nothing very well known." She smiles to show she's being sarcastic. It's not needed though, because Brendon is a not-so-secret Spiderman dork; and even if he hadn't been, pictures of the Spiderman set have been leaked, new ones every week. Emma's face is everywhere in Hollywood news, along with her co-star, that Garfield guy.

"I kinda remember something about zombies," Brendon informs her, making what's supposed to be a zombie face, and Emma laughs. It's a real laugh, unchecked and breathy. Unkind people would call it a braying laugh, but Brendon thinks it's husky and even sexy; mostly because it's so genuine.

"I sing," he tells her in kind. "Nothing very well known. This definitely isn't my party either."

He sees when it clicks, when Emma pieces together his face from maybe the music video or the promo posters plastered all over the party; she's probably heard his name announced tonight too. Pete's been acting like a proud father, giving impromptu speeches about how much he's loved being with Panic on an 'epic journey' and how he looks forward to following Brendon and Spencer 'to future greatness in all their recent endeavors onwards and beyond'. Brendon's just glad to see Pete so happy, especially when the divorce is still so fresh.

So Emma gapes a little, and Brendon half-smiles, feeling awkward. "Maybe I should've introduced myself sooner," he says.

"Dude," Emma says, laughing. "I just told you your music sucked ass."

"The older music," Brendon corrects her, grinning. He feels comfortable again. It's weird, Emma's still a stranger, but she's familiar already. Her sarcasm and his goofiness, playing off each other; Brendon feels like this could be the start of an 'epic journey', to quote Pete.

"At least I didn't say the singer's voice sounds like sex," Emma adds, her eyes glinting mischievously. She covers her mouth with her hand deliberately, play-acting. "Oops."

Brendon's grin stretches until it's a full blown smirk. "I saw Easy A," he admits, to even things out. "You can really, really rock a corset."

They sit there, on a ridiculously tiny couch at Brendon's CD premiere party, next to a drugged-out Keesha, grinning like loons at each other. All Brendon can thinks is how much fun and how much trouble he's going to have with this girl, and that he can't wait to introduce her to Spence. He doesn't know what Emma's thinking. But she's wearing a matching sly smile that makes Brendon suspicious she's thinking the exact same thing.

The music cuts off, the loop beginning again with "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" and as Brendon's voice climbs over the racket of the swinging party, Emma slides to her feet. Her short dress glitters with black sequins, with silver ones decorated on it like shooting stars. There's also black feathers around the hem and hanging from her earrings. The look is flapper-esque and fits in with the whole Panic themed party. Her heels look like they could slice through steel, and they're a bright bright red that matches Brendon's vest perfectly. Plus Brendon has a sneaking suspicion that the black tights she's wearing are in fact garters.

He may be a little in love.

"Would you like to dance?" Emma asks him.

Brendon jumps up, grabbing his top hat off of his lap and placing it on his head at a jaunty angle. He's pleased to notice that Emma's around the same height as him roughly. "I would love to," he says. "This is so my song." He grabs Emma's hand and starts to lead her back towards the crowd, but this time he doesn't mind the heat of the bodies he's passing by. He focuses on the heat of Emma's hand in his.

Eventually they reach the middle of the floor and start dancing, Brendon spinning Emma around and around until she's gasping for breath she's laughing so hard. Then she catches her breath as Brendon waves at Pete and Spencer, who are on stage. They wave back just as Emma recovers, enough to suddenly turn around and then press her back up against Brendon's front. And, yeah, Brendon can roll with that. Literally. She's almost as good with gyrating her hips as he is; but to be fair he's had more practice dancing around stage. After about two minutes of grinding, suddenly a spotlight is shown down on Brendon and Emma, courtesy of none other than Pete Wentz and probably Spencer or Gabe.

Emma takes it in stride, turning her head around to smirk at Brendon.

"Well," she says. "This is awkward."

Brendon's thrilled to realize, instantly, that she's being sarcastic. She goes right back to grinding with him, with the spotlight shining and the catcalls be damned, and Brendon goes along with it, grinning widely.

Brendon loves parties.


End file.
